Facing Differences
by Morbid Desires
Summary: Morticia and Gomez just can't seem to agree, will it cause them to fall before they even reach their first anniversary?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters and anything else that may be part of the characters and scenery and other ideas that belong to Chas Addams or Paramount do not belong to me. The plot and anything you don't recognize is mine.**

**A/N: ****Terribly sorry for any inconveniences I may have caused, but I had to get rid of the lyrics because they weren't located in the Public Domain. Again, terribly sorry, and I hope you still find the story enjoyable. For anyone that may be wondering, this first chapter with the lyrics from "When I Think About Cheatin'" by Gretchin Wilson in mind.**

They had been fighting all day and she was tired of it. She put the finishing touches of her makeup on her face; a light gloss over her red lipstick to make a shine, a slight cats-eye to the corners of her lids. Sliding on her shoes she left their chambers and walked down the hallway. Gomez was sitting in the parlor ferociously smoking on a cigar and staring off into space. She descended the stairs and without looking at him said, "I'm going out," as she grabbed her floor length velvet cloak.

"Fine, just don't be out too late," he sighed, his eyes were tired. He was fed up with this fighting as well but they were both too stubborn to let the subject drop, or compromise. Normally he would have asked where she was going and if he could join her. It was already six in the evening, too late for errands; he knew she wouldn't be doing them anyway. She didn't know what she would be doing all she knew was that she needed out of this house. She closed the door behind her without another word to her husband. She would go back – she loved him too much not to – but she needed time to think and figure out what her heart, her mind and her gut telling her… and what the difference was.

She wandered the streets of the city for some time before coming across a club she had frequented in her youth. The last time she had been there was when she was still single, over a year ago. She ducked inside and let the bouncer take her cloak, it was Jasper; he had been a close friend before she had started seeing Gomez. He nodded to her with a smile and she inclined her head in return, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. They didn't speak though and she continued to the bar.

She was aware of heads turning in awe or in hate, she knew she was gorgeous and she knew how to dress to accentuate her curves and otherwise very feminine figure. She was dressed in the manor she had been famous for before she got married. She wore a short denim skirt that barely covered the lacy underwear she had donned. Her top was a low cut V-neck ¾ length sleeved black tee that hugged her abdomen and bosom. The entire ensemble showed off her hourglass figure perfectly, she was also wearing her biker stilettoes – she didn't bike, of course, but they made her legs look sensual.

She hadn't really meant to dress like a slut or to end up in this particular club but her actions were done and there wasn't much she could do to fix it except go home and make up with Gomez. But she wasn't ready just yet to give in or meet in the middle so she reached into her bra and drew out the twenty she had stuffed there. She ordered a dirty martini and, placing the change in her bra, leaned back against the bar enjoy the loud music and dazzling lights.

She closed her eyes and just let the music take her away and wash over her senses. Her heart beat in time with the bass and the lights created a show on her lids. "Excuse me!" a voice that was not the one singing over the speakers caused her to open her eyes again. Beside her was a young man she judged to be about her age. He was handsome, though not so good looking as her Gomez. He had a kind, boyish face and slightly bronzed skin. His hair was a dark shade of blonde from what she could tell in this dim light. It was long, reaching down to almost brush his shoulders – normally Morticia would have found the look appalling – but on him it worked. He was tall, an inch or two above her and she was almost six feet in these shoes. His face was clean shaven but she could see chest hair sticking out of the top of his button up black silk shirt. This was the result of his top three buttons being undone. All in all she found him rather attractive.

"May I help you?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music.

"I was simply wondering if you would like to dance, you look lonely," he replied, yelling as well. She thought about declining, Gomez on her mind, but he wasn't here now and what was one dance?

"Sure, the next song though, this one's almost over," she responded and then took a sip from her martini. She had slowly been drinking it and it was almost empty. She wasn't worried though, she had always been exceptionally good at keeping her wits about her and remaining cool and collected. It helped that she had a high alcohol tolerance. She finished her drink just before the song ended and snagged the olive from the glass before setting it gently on the bar.

She held the fruit in her teeth and removed the toothpick from its center, placing the small piece of wood on the bar. The man held his hand out to her and she took it, letting him lead her out onto the dance floor.

It wasn't a slow song, it was quick, and the kind she used to dance to before Gomez. She still remembered how, of course, her body was accustomed to the movements and they were familiar. She didn't mind his hand on her hips or his body grinding against hers. They were all actions she associated with the dance, but when his lips started to dance across her neck and shoulder she grew uncomfortable. She quickly spun around and placed her arms around his neck.

She didn't want to hurt Gomez, which was never her intention; she merely wanted to have a bit of fun while she decided what she really wanted. While she was lost in thought she didn't realize that the man had been growing steadily closer. When their lips met it startled her and she reacted the way she would have had it been Gomez, for he was skilled at catching her off guard physically, though never mentally. But when his tongue slipped in her mouth she came out of her trance and back into the real world. This was not Gomez, he may catch her off guard but he always let her give the signals as to whether or not she wanted to go further. She pulled away from the man, the song wasn't over yet but Morticia exited the dance floor.

She made a beeline for the door, ignoring the gawking stares and apologetic shouts of the blonde haired boy. Jasper gave her cloak back to her and nodded; when she gave a half-hearted smile and her eyes darted back towards the boy who had started following her, his gaze followed hers. She watched as his face hardened and he stepped protectively between her and the bronze man. The blonde haired boy protested some but his complaints were soon but off by the thick door closing and the heavy bass notes. The song ended – it was amazing how much had happened in five minutes.

Morticia lifted her hood over her long curly hair, enveloping her face in shadow. Her heels click clacked as she made her way back to the mansion. She had made up her mind shortly after the kiss. Her heart had been leading her to the answer for so long; she just had to accept it. Her gut was against it; it wasn't the idea itself, she was worried about, but how it would turn out. And her mind had been confused, she wanted it… but she didn't.

But everything was on the same page now; she wanted it to happen, but in its own time. She rounded the corner and the mansion came into glorious view. It was grand in its ruined state, with the dying, leafless trees in the front yard and its total of three stories above ground. The moon silhouetted everything on the estate of the enormous Victorian home from the house itself to part of the cemetery to the trees to the rusted iron encasement of the grounds.

Gate opened happily upon her arrival and closed once she had safely crossed into his territory. She smiled fondly at him before turning to the large concrete pathway that lead up to the heavy oak doors. Taking a breath and stealing herself for the upcoming confrontation she strode up the long walkway. When she arrived at the heavy doors they opened for her to show Lurch, he appeared to have been waiting for her.

**A/N: ****Again, I apologize for any inconvenience I may or may not have caused, and I hope you still enjoyed reading my story. I also hope that you still review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The characters and anything else that may be part of the characters and scenery and other ideas that belong to Chas Addams or Paramount do not belong to me. The plot and anything you don't recognize is mine.**

**A/N: Again, terribly sorry for any confusion this whole ordeal might have caused, but it had to happen. Please forgive me and enjoy the new version of Facing Differences.**

Gomez was still in the parlor only now he was pacing back and forth distractedly. Morticia didn't want to bother him with her current apparel and so, after handing her cloak to Lurch she slid her boots off and snuck skillfully up the back stairs and into their room. She shed her current clothing and took a quick bath to wash the club smell form her skin. She wrapped a towel around her body and went to her closet; she decided against wearing a dress, knowing it would most likely be cast aside within the hour.

She did, however, choose a tight fitting corset that was easily enough donned alone with minimal difficulty. Once that task was completed she found a strapless black bra that was tantalizingly lacy. Really it did no good for concealment but it did make her breasts look exceptionally well. She found the matching underwear and located her long, ebony colored silk robe. Everything was perfect; she hadn't really mussed her make up at all in her adventures that evening and so decided against touching it up.

She descended the long, elegant stairway into the parlor only to discover that Gomez was no longer there. She asked Lurch who moaned, he hadn't seen him for quite some time, since shortly after she had gotten home. She asked Mamma and Thing as well, neither of them had seen him either. He wasn't playing with his trains, nor was he in the play room. She couldn't find him in the cemetery or the dungeons either. Finally she looked in the only remaining place he would be: his study.

Sure enough, when she tip toed into the room he was there sitting at his desk, his back facing her. She approached him cautiously, not wanted to alert him of her presence. He was scribbling ferociously onto a sheet of paper. Carefully she peered over his shoulder deliberately making sure her shadow was not thrown on the desk. He was writing poetry… to her.

With a smile she lifted her hands to massage his shoulder, moving them down to wrap around his chest. He put his quill back in the ink pot and covered the majority of the sheet of parchment with his long fingers. Her hair cascaded over her should as she turned to kiss him on the cheek, "Gomez, darling, I don't want to fight anymore. Forgive me?" she asked, rather sweetly, her tone was almost mother-like, which surprised her since she had no children.

"How can I forgive you when you've done nothing wrong?" he questioned, turning to face her. Their lips were mere inches apart but neither of them made the movements that would bring them together.

"I have been stubborn and foolish, my love, you were right," the words tasted like ice cream or something equally horrible, but they felt right in her heart.

"No, I don't want you to agree unless you're absolutely certain. Because once it starts there's no going back," Gomez was always too worried about how she felt about things. He was constantly pushing aside his feelings to make her happy and content and she felt selfish because of it. She rarely took into consideration what he wanted and when she did she didn't do so graciously.

"It is my own choice, Bubala," he name had the effect she had been hoping, he grabbed her hand and began kissing her arm from knuckle to shoulder, she gently pulled her limb out of his grasp though and stroked his smooth face, "Gomez, talk now, Bubala later."

He nodded reluctantly, "Later…"

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes! It is my choice. I was worried about the consequences but now I know, they are well worth the risk. I am confident in my heart that everything will turn out just fine. And I want nothing more than to create life with you and carry your child, Gomez," Gomez stared to say something here but Morticia silenced him with a finger to his lips.

"Hush, my love, let me finish. I do not think we should try terribly hard at first. I won't take my birth control anymore but we shouldn't spend any more time in the bedroom than we already do. Understood?" Morticia removed her finger only to have his lips pressed against hers in a passionate and happy kiss.

"Completely! Morticia, you have no idea how much this means to me—" Gomez began but she cut him off, "Actually, my darling, I do…" She smiled then. Just something sweet, something she reserved only for him and later on for his children.

"I know and I was foolish for suggesting you might not and—" she interrupted him again though this time she placed her lips on his once more. The kiss was not passionate and lust filled, it was affectionate and insecure and experimental. She was frightened of the path she had chosen to walk down this night, but she was also convinced that it was the right thing and with Gomez by her side she felt she could conquer anything. When they finally broke apart he seemed to have forgotten what it was he wanted to say so instead he merely whispered, "I love you, Tish."

"And I love you, Gomez," she answered in the same low tone he had spoken in.

"I wrote you something…" Gomez let the sentence trail off. He wanted to show it to her but was afraid she wouldn't like it.

"Can I hear it?" she asked with a smile.

"Absolutely," he handed her the piece of paper he had been writing on so furiously before.

"Ready it to me?" she asked, handing it back to him.

"Of course," he scooted the chair out and she rested lightly on his lap. He hooked one arm around her waist and used the other to hold the parchment in the candle light.

"I know you may be frightened

But your grip on my heart merely tightened

When I saw you were scared

My heart you ensnared

For you I would wait

You, I could never hate

I want only you to bear my child

For it is only you who drives me wild

You were my fiancé

I love you, Je t'aime

Now you are my wife

You own my entire life

Je t'aime

Te amo

I love you"

Gomez finished and looked at her. She smiled at him and the love reflected back in her eyes was something she would never be able to put into words.

"There's another one on the back, can I hear it as well?" She asked gently, knowing how apprehensive her husband could be with his poetry. He only wanted to impress her and she didn't know how to tell him that he needn't try. The fact that he wrote anything for her made her heart skip a beat she was so happy.

"It's not finished…" he began.

"I'm sure it's still absolutely wonderful," She gave him an encouraging smile and she turned the piece of parchment over to reveal another poem.

"What is Love, if not a heaving force?

Love can crush walls to dust

Love can change the wind's current course

Love can stop earthquakes on the crust.

Love can tame the oceans and the seas

Love can bring the wrestling champ to his knees.

What is Love, if not a gentle breeze?

Love is the brush of a mother's hand

Love is the soft sigh of a sleeping child

Love is building a castle in the sand

It is the heart of a toddler ever so mild.

Love is the joyous laugh of a baby

And that last thought of, "Well, maybe…"

What is Love, if not a shared secret?

Love is the late night games and giggles

Love is sharing the last half of your cookie

Love is up and down of the see-saw all a jiggle

Love is always starting out as a rookie

Love is constant late night talks

Always followed by long walks.

What is Love, if not a fleeting glance?

Love is the soft brush of two hands

Love is the light blush upon your face

Love is, "Please, just one last chance…"

Love is checking your phone; just in case

It is the warm feel of your lips on mine,

And always wanting a little more time.

So what is Love? You may ask,

Love is strong and yet weak

Love is hard and yet kind

Love is patient and yet demanding

Love is passionate and yet gentle

Love is beautiful and yet painful

Love is everything and anything one might need

With Love nothing is impossible."

"How is that not finished? I think it's beautiful," Morticia ran a gentle hand through her husband's hair. He rested his head against her chest and closed his eyes.

"You really think so, Tish?" he asked, without moving.

"I know so, my love," She said and then looking at him decided her other plans could wait. He was exhausted. Baby making would have to happen another night and that was okay with Morticia. She had accepted bringing his child into this world sooner rather than later but she knew she wasn't really ready yet either. One more night wouldn't hurt either of them especially since they had many, many more to come.

"Let's go to bed, Gomez, we can talk more in the morning if you like," he didn't say anything, just got out of the chair after she slid gracefully from his lap and went on up the stairs to bed. Morticia blew out most of the candles as was about to follow her husband when her eye caught a list that was laying, crumpled up on his desk. Curious, she unfolded it and read it, it was full of baby names. Among the girl names were Wednesday and Friday and Morticia was about to put the sheet down and go to bed when she realized there was a column of boy names as well. She quickly scanned the list and went up the stairs to accompany her husband, but all the while a particular name wouldn't get out of her head… it was a slightly curious little name: Pugsly… But Morticia found that it had a special ring to it.

It was then she realized that this one was not to be seen by her. At least not yet, he had been saving it up until she was pregnant. The thought that had seemed foreign and terrifying not hours before was warming up to her nicely. She decided she wanted her first child to be a boy, she didn't want to have to share her husband's affections with a daughter just yet. He may not love her in the same way he loved Morticia, but she knew it her heart that he would boost her esteem and tell her she was beautiful every day. And Morticia was just selfish enough that she didn't want to share that little bit of her spouse, just yet.

She made it up the stairs finally, only to discover Gomez had fallen asleep still fully clothed and with a cigar still in his mouth. Gently she took the cigar and extinguished it in his chest pocket, then she dressed him in his nightclothes and carefully laid him down to bed. After dressing herself for the night she laid down next to him, resting her head on his chest. He stirred slightly and wrapped his arm protectively around her waist.

"Goodnight, Gomez…" She whispered, before drifting off into a sleep with dreams filled with little feet and baby chatter…

**A/N: Again, I'm sorry, and I hoped you liked my story. Please, please, please review!**


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